


Purebred

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breeding, Gangbang, M/M, PWP, Pure Smut, Trans Junkrat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8045770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In post-apocalyptica, more kids - and more people to carry them - are always needed. As long as he's getting paid, Junkrat won't object to being one of them.





	Purebred

Far away, down the long desert road behind him, Junkrat heard the sound of a motor, and his brain went directly into survival mode.

Junkrat never saw other people as anything but threats. Especially junkers. They usually wanted to kill, arrest, and/or loot him, and Junkrat’s automatic response to seeing anyone was to lob grenades in their general direction until they went away. He didn’t have a mode of transportation beyond his own legs, either, so a quick getaway was not within reason. His mind went to places where he could possibly hide as the sound grew closer; the sun was setting, and he could take refuge in the shadows if he needed to.

Thankfully, no such strategy was needed with the other junker. He came up on him with the traditional junker peaceful trade sign of two fingers in the air.

The stranger was a mean-looking man that was much taller and way wider than Junkrat was, resplendent in a pig-shaped gas mask. It went with the oddly cute pig tattoo on his massive belly. He rode an ancient bike with a sidecar that still had actual wheels, rather than the hover-pads of more modern vehicles. It was no surprise; functioning hover-pads were far rarer and harder to work with than wheels.

“Wotcha want? I ain’t got food on me, so you better go on before I blow you up.”

“I don’t want food.” He seemed to be a man of few words.

Junkrat cocked his head, hand going to his frag launcher. “Well ya ain’t getting my grenades either, if-”

“I want you.”

“…huh?“

The other man sighed behind his mask. “Someone I know is trying to start a settlement, but they’re real low on… population.”

Junkrat could guess what he was getting at. “You wantin’ me to be a breeder?” The concept was not unfamiliar; for every new junker colony, they need their fair share of young, healthy individuals to act as breeders and boost the population. Preferably non-irradiated, as Junkrat considered himself. It was kind of weird, but it was pretty efficient (and cushy) in Junkrat’s eyes. Never know who might get wiped out next and need some more people to replace them.

“That’s the idea.”

“You gonna pay me?”

“I can give you a place to stay.”

Junkrat weighed his options. A (presumably free) hideout and tons of sex in exchange for carrying a baby around in his stomach for a few months. Childbearing couldn’t be that horrible, could it? And he could sneak off after it was all said and done; he didn’t have to raise it, after all. Plus, he’d be an asset valuable enough to protect at all costs.

“Yeah, sure. I’m in. Might have a couple coppers on me tail, so if they come ‘round askin’ for a Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes, you ain’t never heard of him.”

“Understood.“

Junkrat climbed into the sidecar like a monkey, giggling with glee. The bike was pretty nice, brimming with junker ingenuity. He immediately picked out bits and pieces of things that were once other things, before being repurposed. “Thanks for havin’ me… uh-”

“Roadhog.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I see, pig mask. Hey, I once met this wild boar out in the bush…” Junkrat talked on about nothing in particular as they flew along the desert road, his feet on the edge of the sidecar. There wasn’t much to look at besides the occasional tree or pile of wreckage. Roadhog wasn’t too much of a talker, only answering in snorts for much of the drive, so Junkrat amused himself by talking around in circles.

“So you know, I’m not real good with kids. Me parents were too busy with survivin’ the omnics to sorry about teachin’ their kid about babies and such. Had to learn it all meself. I was 16 when I learned that men weren’t supposed to have tiny dongs and be able to get pregnant, but that didn’t stop me.” He didn’t quite know why he was blabbing to a complete stranger; maybe it was just to get a reaction of Roadhog.

Roadhog said something unintelligible in response, and Junkrat didn’t mention anything more. He made strange friends in the wasteland sometimes, but most of them ended up trying to kill him or steal his gear before they parted ways.

They passed into a slightly more civilized are, with tents and lean-tos on the sides of the roads. A wooden sign with “Ruddytown 2” scrawled on it stood by proudly, making Junkrat wonder what had happened to the first Ruddytown. Half-built structures swarming with people sat further off, flanked by piles of scrap. Roadhog pulled up near an empty tent made from tarps and sticks, and stopped the bike. No one paid the two much attention.

“This it?”

“Yup.” The bike rose half a foot as Roadhog stood up.

“Alrighty… straight to the breedin’ or what?“

“No. I want to see what you got.” Roadhog grabbed Junkrat by his rip-tire and lifted him out of the sidecar.

“Hey, hey, hey! Hold on, mate!“ Junkrat squirmed, feet dangling. Damn, Roadhog was big - and strong too, to lift him up like hat.

Roadhog set him down again and pushed aside the tent flap. “You can stay here.”

Inside the tent was a mattress and a wooden table, with bits of wire and metal scattered across the floor. It looked lived in, but not for long periods at a time; this was just some temporary sort of place to crash for a few days. Junkrat flopped on the mattress face-first, looking at Roadhog over his shoulder. “So… wotcha lookin’ for? I’m a fine male, age 26, never had an ounce of radiation in me life.” Junkrat stretched and giggled, rolling into his back. If Roadhog was going to test him, he might as well go all the way. “Never been bred before. You gonna have me?”

Roadhog closed the tent and loomed over Junkrat, his tattooed belly filling his vision. One massive finger pointed at Junkrat’s tattered shorts. “Take ‘em off.” His deep voice did something delightful to Junkrat’s body.

“Ooh, assertive, ain’t ya.” He didn’t bother removing his gear, just the belt and pants and nice silk boxers he’d taken as a treat for himself. “See? I got a tiny dong. This thing is the same as one, anyways.“

Junkrat pressed his clit between his fingers, watching Roadhog closely. The biker didn’t seem too worried about it, simply kneeling at the edge of the mattress.

“Hey… does it matter who’s who for this whole breeding thing, or can I just do it with whoever? ‘Cuz I wouldn’t mind havin’ some piglets, if you know what I mean…” Junkrat tried his best to look appealing. Roadhog was pretty much his type, big and hairy and imposing, a force to be reckoned with, and one capable of wrecking him.

“No one really cares. As long as somebody’s pregnant.“ Roadhog prodded Junkrat’s barley-noticeable tit, making it wobble. “Male, huh.”

“Well, more like I don’t care. It don’t really matter. Now come on and breed me.“

“Not now.“ Roadhog gently rubbed his fingers in Junkrat’s vulva. It responded immediately, and Junkrat’s legs spread practically on their own. God yes, he was sensitive, he barely had enough time in the past week to sleep, let alone masturbate, and the touch of those big, rough fingers was just what he needed. Junkrat was near climax when said fingers were unexpectedly removed.

“Hey, Don’t stop!”

“I’m gonna be saving you for later.”

The deep, throaty quality of his voice made Junkrat’s abs tense more. His clit felt like it was burning, in a sensitive, desperate way. “When’s later?” he asked, trying not to pout.

“Just wait here.” Roadhog stood up and left without another word, leaving Junkrat to sit by himself on the mattress. Three seconds passed before he ran out of patience and his finger found its way to his clit. Jeez, Roadhog shouldn’t have just left like that, he had a job to do. What a tease. It took everything Junkrat had not to chase Roadhog down and jump his bones.

The cool burn mellowed out into that familiar feeling of pleasure as Junkrat stuck his fingers inside himself. The constant dirt and grime that stuck to them were of no importance, all he needed was that feeling of being filled. Roadhog had to have had a massive dong for his size, and Junkrat thought about it as he masturbated, head rolled back, giggling like a fool. Geez, and his and were huge, too; they would feel so nice wrapped around Junkrat’s neck.

Roadhog seemed like the type to absolutely destroy his partners in bed, if he even spared a thought for them. Sheer, unbridled wild hog power.

“Here he is.”

Junkrat’s eyes snapped open in surprise at Roadhog’s voice. The big man was standing at the tent’s entrance, a coil of rope in one hand.

Junkrat didn’t stop touching himself in his presence; rather, it turned him on more.

“Come here.” Roadhog’s command made something hot stir in Junkrat’s abdomen. God, he was attractive.He sprang to his feet and followed Roadhog out of the tent, forgetting his clothes. He didn’t mind if someone saw him naked, even if there was anyone around in he first place. Little was a big deal in the wasteland.

“Grab that. Both hands.” Roadhog pointed to the post of a narrow wooden fence that ran around the backside of the tent.

Junkrat followed the order, wrapping both hands around the post. “Right! Assuming the breedin’ position!” As it was just waist height, he had to bend over to do so, putting his puss out.  
Roadhog made what Junkrat assumed to be a pleased snort, and began to bind the junker’s hands to the post.

“Hey, mate, I ain’t gonna run away. Ya don’t need to do that.” Junkrat giggled, more in a nervous way than anything. He shifted his hips, trying to get more comfortable. “This won’t take all day, will it?”

Roadhog gave no answer, only moving behind him. Junkrat felt his huge finger - he couldn’t see, but he was fairly sure that was a finger - pressing against his vulva. It throbbed in response, as if eager to be touched again. “I’m getting first dibs.”

“Mate-“ Junkrat opened his mouth to speak, then opened it wider in a low groan. Oh yes, that was a finger, curling inside of him to push on the spongy thing in there. His thighs tensed as a wave of pleasure rolled through his groin. “Hooley dooley!” Junkrat gasped when the wave receeded. “Do that again!”

Roadhog chuckled and withdrew his finger. Junkrat heard the sound of a zipper, and something else took the finger’s place, nudging at his puss.

“Jesus, mate! You packin’ a sausage in there?” Junkrat’s mouth hung open, panting raggedly, trying to push himself backwards onto it. Oh yes, he was big, and heavy, too. Roadhog leaned on Junkrat as he pushed in. A spike of pain shot through Junkrat’s hips, not only from the intrusion, but the weight of Roadhog leaning on him. “Jeez, don’t crush me,“ he wheezed.

Roadhog grumbled and relented, standing up with both massive hands around Junkrat’s middle. “Alright, small fry.”

Beads of sweat ran into Junkrat’s eyes. He shook his head to fling them away. He could hear Roadhog breathing heavy, his voice muffled by the ever-present mask. Even though his legs were tired from standing there, Junkrat stood firm, letting Roadhog’s hips rub against him. Gently, teasingly, then sudden and serious, thrusting like his life depended on it.

His mind flailed around in circles, more frantically than it usually did. Junkrat felt a headache coming on. One of those “been masturbating far too long without release” headaches. “Come on,” he gasped. “Pop that shot in me. Gimme those little piglets.”

Roadhog made some sound like a wheeze, pushing his deepest inside and making Junkrat’s puss that much slicker. The big man leaned back, catching his breath and doing his zipper. “Wait here.”

“Wait?! No!” Junkrat nearly hurt his neck in turning around to look at Roadhog’s retreating form. “Don’t leave me hanging again, mate!” It was too soon, really - his clit would be crying if it had a voice. He slumped to his knees, thighs pressed together, arms burning. So, so wet and yet not able to finish. It was torture.

  
“I’m going to bring some friends,” Roadhog said.

“Make It quick, mate.” Junkrat’s clit throbbed in time with his head. “I might lose it again.”

Junkrat didn’t mind being alone too much. But being tied to a post, aroused to a point he couldn’t stand, waiting on someone to come back and maybe, finally finish him off…

That was something he could not easily do.

Junkrat turned his head around as far as it could go in an attempt to see where Roadhog had went. There wasn’t a whole lot to see that way, just the tent of blue tarp. In front of him was parched ground and bush that was as dry as his own now.

“Hey… come on back, mate!” It took a lot to get Junkrat to beg. This was a lot. “Please mate! Come an’ breed me, or whatever. Get it over with already!”

He started to pant, less from arousal and more from a growing fear of “what if they don’t come back?”. He couldn’t hear anyone moving about, just the sounds of the insects in the bush. Yes, he was going to die here, tied to a post, like an abandoned dog, turned to Junkrat jerky under the scorching sun -

“He’s over here on the fence.”

Junkrat’s heart leapt at the sound of Roadhog’s voice. “Thank god, mate! Thought you were gonna leave me here to bake.” He got to his feet again, assuming the bent over position again.

“I was only gone for three minutes,” Roadhog grumbled. There were more people with him, a pair of tough, wiry men, on the young side. Members of the colony, probably.

“‘E looks like a twig,” one of them said, coming to stand behind Junkrat. The junker immediately tried to thrust his hips back, barely brushing the man’s jeans. “‘An wild, too.”

Oh, he was wild. Junkrat was wild all the time, but this horrible teasing… he could feel the rough fabric on his puffy lips, stimulating him just enough so his arousal didn’t slip away.

“Come on, come on, don’t keep me waiting!” Junkrat heard a zipper being undone, and his vagina twitched. Please, god, please please please before he lost his mind -

“Go ahead, boys.”

And then it was in, so much bigger than Roadhog’s, but Junkrat would take it. “Knew you could do it.” He giggled, thrusting his hips back and forth as much as he could. It was rough going; what Roadhog had done to him had barely been enough lube, but oh geez did it rev his engine. It hurt an ungodly amount, even though it was only an inch in, but the little jolts of pleasure mixed in with the pain made him drool.

He forgot the pain of the ropes on his wrists and gave in, high with excitement and fulfilment. Junkrat closed his eyes, soaking in the feeling. The man behind him had one hand on his side, roaming up and down before sliding underneath and squeezing his belly. He muttered a phrase of encouragement. Probably imagining it swelling up with his kid.

Something firm nudged at his cheek, and Junkrat opened his eyes to meet the cock of another junker beside him. The other man’s hand lingered on the back of Junkrat’s neck, tense with uncertainty. “Yeah, mate. I won’t bite.”

That was apparently all the consent he needed, as Junkrat soon felt his head being wrenched to the side, mouth lowered onto the dick. It tasted like dirt and sweat, coughing up his throat as the stranger forced himself in. “That’s it, swallow me down, bitch.”

Junkrat choked, tears cutting through the grime and soot on his cheeks. They called this spit-roasting, in some parts. It did feel like being impaled on a metal pole. Two metal poles, really. Poles that thrust in and out, pulling at the skin inside him, coated in saliva at one end and who know what at the other. The poles stayed put for a few seconds at the end, their bearers groaning before pulling out and giving Junkrat’s backside a hearty slap.

Junkrat gasped raggedly. With no one to hold him up anymore, he had no choice but to sink to his knees, legs too exhausted to hold him up anymore. His arousal, which had been staying at a steady high throughout it, plummeted and finally wound down without resolution. God damn it all, he needed that orgasm. He’d been teased too much already.

“Take him down.” Roadhog’s low, rumbling voice snapped Junkrat back into reality.

“Oh, thanks mate.” The rope binding his hands was cut, and Junkrat sunk face-first into the dirt. “Y’ done with me?” he mumbled.

A long stretch of silence followed. “Maybe one more,“ Roadhog said quietly.

“Great!” Junkrat rolled over onto his back, his peppiness rekindled by the prospect of getting hog dick again. “I’m all yours!”

Roadhog snorted, so very much like a pig, and waved the other junkers away. They left, muttering.

“C'mon mate, c'mon, make me your… uhh, whatever they call female pigs!”

“A sow.” Roadhog knelt in the dirt between Junkrat’s legs, pausing long enough to undo his pants.

“Sow, yeah. I knew that.” Inwardly, Junkrat marveled at Roadhog’s size. He was taller than he was, a feat in itself, and his hands dwarfed Junkrat as they slid over his belly. The only thing not intimidatingly massive about the man was his dick. On the small side, large enough to be felt but not enough to hurt. And boy was Junkrat feeling it now. “Oh, Hoggie, you’re perfect.”

A giant hand came to rest on Junkrat’s neck, wrapped loosely around his throat.“Don’t call me that.“

“Sir, then?”

A low rumble of contentment was Junkrat’s only answer.

* * *

 

Junkrat sat outside the tent, watching the other junkers run around like busy ants. They didn’t let him help out with anything anymore, not since his bleeding stopped and his belly began to swell. Now that he was carrying a kid, Junkrat was a precious resource, stuck in the tent.

Roadhog looked after him, most of the time.

The big man brought him food and stood outside the tent, as if guarding it, on occasion. Junkrat guessed it was because he thought the kid might be his.

“Hey, Hog, can I get outta here already?” Junkrat sat on the mattress, playing with a spring. “I’m a free spirit! I can’t stay here forever.”

“Not until you give us what you owe.” Roadhog’s massive fingers came to rest on Junkrat’s swollen belly. He’d started to show this month, to the delight of the others. Now, they focused more on who the kid belonged to than the need to fill Junkrat with semen to ensure pregnancy. “Yeah, yeah.”

It wasn’t a great experience for Junkrat. The extra weight made his prosthetic creak and sink deeper than usual into the ground with every step. It was hell on his real ankle as well, to the point where Junkrat sat more than he stood. He didn’t want to be sedentary, of course - but he couldn’t exactly pursue adventure with a kid in his belly.

Or the nausea in his stomach that occasionally reared its head.

He sat outside the tent most of the time, staring enviously after the other junkers when they rode off to salvage, imagining himself in that seat instead.

“It won’t last forever,” Roadhog said, casting a wide shadow over Junkrat. His massive hand ran through Junkrat’s hair, which wasn’t on fire for once.

“But it’s happening now! I don’t care about a year in the future, I want it to stop _now_.”

“Hold out for three more months.”

Junkrat gave an exaggerated groan and flopped onto his side. The kid - he didn’t have a name for it yet, and he didn’t really care - shifted inside him. It was like an alien growing in there. “Hey, Hog - once this thing comes out, you can have it.”

“Hmmgh.” The big man absent-minded ran a finger down Junkrat’s belly. “I better.”

  
Time crawled by. Junkrat felt like going mad, stuck here in this camp with a belly that seemed far bigger than it should be. No one really bothered him besides the closest thing to a doctor the place had. The other junkers’ fights about paternity came more frequently, until a menacing line from Roadhog put it to an end. “I found him. I had him first.” Those facts when unchallenged for months.

And then, of course, it came. They came, rather, as the doctor had long since determined it was twins. Junkrat regretted everything during the labour - going with Roadhog, being filled with spunk, existing in the rest place.  
He lost track of the world in that hurricane of pain, shouting, and the ear-piercing shrieks of the kids.

After all that, Junkrat sat quietly on the bed, looking at the lumps of flesh that had come out of him, barely believing it was over. Roadhog was holding them, one in each hand. “Good run, mate?” he said wearily.

“Good run.”

“Heh, y'know, once I can walk again, I’m gonna go off into the sunset. Maybe I’ll see you later.” …and you might have half a mind to kill me out there, Junkrat finished mentally.

“I’m in no rush.”


End file.
